


Walking Faster

by toryaki



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Everyone Is Gay, Gay, Gay Sex, M/M, SO GAY, Shameless Smut, Tentabulges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 09:12:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2186031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toryaki/pseuds/toryaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Your stomach flips and you stop momentarily, checking to make sure you weren't imagining what you heard. Nope. John Egbert is definitely calling after you and definitely kicking up dust to catch up. You turn back around and speed-walk towards your hive. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>karkat: makin' my way down town, walkin fast<br/>john: HEY KARKAT<br/>karkat: WALKIN' FASTER</p><p>this whole thing was an excuse to write smut and use that meme and i'm not sorry</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking Faster

Three years. Three excruciatingly long and insanely infuriating years on some god forsaken space rock, with only a crowd of developmentally stunted yet lovable assholes to keep you company. Mostly lovable, anyway; three years is a long time. Long enough, even, that you've started measuring your time in human terms. For three years you have been waiting, patience waning by the fucking hour.

You pull your thoughts together, a mess of fidgeting worries and murderous urges. You aren't sure how you've stayed sane this whole time, anticipation building as you counted down the days to your comrades' arrival. Your yellow eyes dart nervously around you, examining the void littered with bits of things that universes decided to spit out. As far as you can see, the abyss is never ending. You jitter your right leg violently, gnawing aggressively on your bottom lip with your rounded teeth. You hear the gentle whoosh and soft fall of a pair of feet hitting the ground a few feet behind you.

"You said they would be here," you blurt accusingly. It was at least mid-afternoon now. You can feel your fuse burning, and it only fuels the fire when the boy in the shades responds.

"They should be. Dunno why they aren't. Maybe it was a Traffic Jam." Dave Strider tucks his hands neatly into the front pockets of his red pajama bottoms. His cape is still settling from his earlier flight, yet his hair has somehow stayed a perfect sweep of icy blond atop his smug-ass face. "A space jam, even." The taller boy smirks to himself, and it takes every ounce of strength you have not to spring up and knock his soft human skull straight inwards. You shoot him daggers and your red irises expand and contract with the predatory glare that you're sure Dave knows all too well by now.

"I'm going to space JAM my fucking knuckles so far into your skull that you'll be seeing STARS. How's that for a SPACE JAM you fucking nookstain." God. There are only two beings in the entire multiverse that can make you this shit-spitting mad, and (ironically) your best bro Dave Strider is one of them. (The other is a human named Billy Mays--it's a long story.) Currently, though, your anxiety is beginning to get the better of you. You can feel the time of this rotation slipping away much more quickly than you'd like, and your digestive innards curling and strangling around themselves. You understand that the humans call this "butterflies", but you have no idea why human dairy products would take flight, nor what they have to do with humans' fucked-up digestive processes. You aren't sure why you are so nervous, though. Admittedly, you are sitting on concerns that this whole thing is a fucking joke, that your friends are pulling an elaborate, meticulously planned prank to make you think that they all fucking died in this game and are going to make you pull the pieces back together. You swallow hard, eyebrows furrowing into a deep 'v' in the center of your forehead.

"Is this even real, Dave?" You question, the quiet growl in your voice still present, but overshadowed in part by a higher octave as well. "Is any of this fucking real? What if they never show up, or what if everybody has been lying to me this entire fucking time? What if this is all some massively shitty scheme to collect trickster's gambit?" You hope desperately that Dave doesn't inquire more into your concerns; more into what you're truly terrified of. Your insides do a 360 degree fucking pirrouette as you wait for Dave to say something. You hear him shift his weight and heave out a gust of air.

"Alright, listen crab cakes." He steps forward and uses his god-tier powers (so fucking unnecessary) to drop himself next to you on the edge of the rocky cliff face. "Three years is a long fuckin' time to wait. I get that. Shit, Rose and I get that more than anyone. I've been best bros with Egbert since before time itself. Waiting feels like a fuckin eternity, complete with the whole melancholy ticking of a metronome and endless looped kid's songs from theme parks that make you question your sanity." You roll your eyes, pressing back a smile. Dave is a dick sometimes, usually, almost always; but when he's not he's pretty cool. "Not only that, but have you SEEN space girl. Shit, bro, I'm all over that. Gonna respect the hell out of that space princess." He shakes his head back and forth, snapping out of his Jade-tinted daydreams. You're starting to grow impatient with his ramblings.

"That's all fucking peachy, but Dave, what exactly is the point you're dancing around like a hollerbeast in heat?" You look inquisitively at him, and all he does is shake his head and smirk at you. What the fuck.

"My point, you dick wit, is that I get what it's like to have to wait for somebody you care about. My point is that no matter how fucking long we're stuck on this giant piece of salt, nothing's gonna change between any of us." Wait. What the fuck is he going on about?

"What the fuck are you going on about?" You blurt, baffled. You can just barely see the outline of his red irises rolling to the back of his head behind his shades.

"I'm talking about your blatantly obvious love-him-loathe-him-wanna-hold-him hate crush on John. You're so obviously pining for his dick, dude." He wiggles his bushy eyebrows so that it looks like they're bouncing on top of the shades. You stammer, appalled and embarrassed. John? John Egbert? Who the fuck does he think he's talking to?

"What the fuck, Dave!" You snarl at him, hands in tight fists. "There's an ice-grub's chance in the fire pit that I'd ever," you shake your head violently, dispelling mental images you do not want right now. "EVER, even CONSIDER being in a quadrant with that stupid, hopeless, childish, clever, poorly dressed, disgustingly unkempt... that... THAT DOUCHE BAG!" You finish, your face turning a shade of cherry that deceives your intentions. Fuck. There's no way you could have any sort of aims for quadrants with that dumb, pranking, pretty, lanky, messy dark-haired, flawless.... NO. There is absolutely NO POSSIBILITY. "FUCK." You shout, flustered and blushing like one of those human school children from Dave's stupid fucking cartoons. You can't believe he called you out on this now, of all times. Your insides are literally trying to murder you, you're sure. "I HAVE NO QUADRANT INCLINED FEELINGS FOR JOHN FUCKING EGBERT." Dave starts up his eyebrows again.

"John fucking Egbert? Sure, nah. But I'm sure you wouldn't mind Vantas fucking Egbert, huh Karkitty?" He winks at you menacingly from beneath the eye shields. Fuck. You don't have time for this right now. You push yourself away from the cliff, stomping off to find a place to retreat and gather yourself. Dave's face looks like you just stole his favorite puppy as he calls after you. "Wait, where are you going?" He's a fucking douchebag.

"YOU'RE A FUCKING DOUCHEBAG." He doesn't follow you, knowing you well enough now to understand that following you would only make things worse. You are seething as you walk towards your makeshift hive and headquarters. He had no idea what the fuck he was talking about. John Egbert? Please, like he was anywhere near worthy of pailing with you. With his long, tapering limbs and bright blue eyes and glimmering teeth and gorgeous black, fluffy hair... NO!! KARKAT VANTAS, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING. You swing the door of your hive room open and slam it shut behind you, sliding down to the floor. It's not like you haven't thought about that asshole in that way before. Shit, when you met him early on you had the most passionate black hatred towards him that you'd ever experienced. With a human, go figure. Ever since he turned you down, though, you haven't allowed yourself the thought. Or at least, you've tried not to....As of late, though, with John closer and closer by the second, you've had trouble thinking about anything but. You drop your face into your hands and let out a massive sigh.

"What the hell am I thinking??" You shake yourself back to reality and knock yourself in the head a few times for good measure. You run your nimble gray digits through your hair in a violent manner, pulling it out into tufts and spikes that stay on their own. Tugging on your hair is a nervous habit that you still haven't kicked, and you hate it. Your hair has even stayed a certain way from your built up stress. Whatever, you think. Nobody fucking cares. Except... you think about John and his perfect windswept hair and... maybe, not that you care or anything, but maybe you could just fix up your hair a tiny bit. You stroll over to the mirror and begin to attempt to tame whatever the fuck you'd call the monstrosity on top of your head. Just as you find a suitable replacement for hair styling liquid (sopor is close enough), your entire hive shakes with unprecedented force. "Oh. Fuck." You allow yourself a total of about two seconds to get on your feet and moving. The last time something shook the meteor that bad, there was an army of gargantuan jokers out for blood. You barely all made it out alive, if not unscathed. You snatch your sickles from your sylladex without thinking and dart out towards where you just were with Dave. Except Dave is still there, and he isn't alone.

You are confused at first. Why are the monsters in a giant boat? And then it clicks. John. John and Jade. They landed loudly and ungracefully, but they landed all the less. You can't seem to find your feet for a good moment, and you have to look directly at your shoes to force yourself to move. You bring yourself up to Dave, standing at the foot of the boat with his hand over his heart and the other on his forehead.

"Oh, my sweet Johnny boy has finally returned!" He says in a feminine, if not pleasant, voice. He lowers his tone back to normal and his hands return to his sides as he sees a figure swing its way over the deck, floating slowly down to ground level. Dave's eyes widen as the figure comes closer. "And his gorgeous sister, too." Jade rolls her bright green eyes, unable to stop smiling. Her long black hair dances softly behind her as she runs up to meet up with the two of you. She walks right up to Dave and you can't help yourself from snorting. Dave glares down at you, blushing. "What the fuck are you laughing at, short stuff?" He forces out, pissed off.

You can't help it. You can hardly catch your breath. Jade is at least a good half foot taller than Dave, and you are thrilled. For the past three years, Dave has called you every name in the book; every name referring to your size, at least. The tables have finally turned.

"OH MAN," You say, regaining your composure. You wipe a few tears away from your face, still grinning like an idiot. "I never thought the day would come when somebody could finally cut you down to size." You smirk like an asshole and Dave's face turns red up through his ears. He opens his mouth to say something, but is cut off by Jade.

"I don't mind though. We'll just have to see how he... measures up." That was it. You and Jade were both laughing way harder than you should have been, but you didn't care. God. You didn't realize how much you missed Jade. She has always been one of the least idiotic of the humans. You two regain your composure as Dave stammers, beginning sentences but never accomplishing much. Jade swings her long arms around his shoulders and plants a tiny kiss on his head. "Awh, it's okay Dave! I think it's cute." Dave's face has turned so red that you think he might combust. Before you can start laughing again at his expense, however, you notice a spot of blue growing closer out of the corner of your eye.

All of your senses stand on end when you first see him. He's in those stupid god tier pajamas, complete with windsock hood. You hate how nicely he wears them. You hate how his slime ghost socks pop out at the ankles. You absolutely hate how his wind powers blow his shirt up just a tiny bit to reveal his pink stomach as he floats to the ground in front of you. And oh, god, he's right in front of you. Oh my god, his stupid gapped smile and bright eyes and perfect hair are coming at you like a freight train. You can't move. You can barely breathe, and it takes you too long to realize that John is. He's not stopping. You don't realize what he's doing until the back of your head hits the solid ground below you. Shit.

"KARKAAAAAAAAAAT!!!" He shouts mirthfully, his voice deeper than you remember. He's squeezing you in a vice hug and you are pretty sure your insides are sobbing. You are probably all kinds of red in the face right now, and you're glad that John's stupid windsock hood is covering your shame. You cough a bit, trying to breathe. John is heavy.

"HEY JOHN. HI. I CAN'T BREATHE!" You continue to cough a bit and John jumps into the air and onto his feet, still holding onto you. He looks concerned, meeting your red eyes with his shock of electric blue. Fuck. You're blushing even more now. What is this bullshittery.

"I'm sorry Karkat! I was just so excited to finally see you!" He smiles again, lighting up his entire face. You're vaguely aware of Dave and Jade observing, Jade snickering quietly. Goddamnit. You try to focus on your basic functions: breathing, moving, speaking. Oh right.

"It's fine John. Could you um. Put me back on the fucking ground, though." You speak slowly, like every word has to be set down before you pick up another. He's holding you so close and your feet are dangling off the ground. He smells like... what is that. He smells like those bright red candy straws that Terezi loves. You register that this asshole smells like fucking redvines. Redvines and musk and oh shit you need to stop thinking about this immediately. He responds to your request by popping his eyes wide open, blushing a little bit. He reaches his arms out and gently sets your feet back on the ground. You brush yourself off, attempting to regain your composure. John rubs the back of his neck self-consciously.

"Heheh, sorry Karkat. I got a little carried away there." He looks again at you and half smiles, this time blushing. You have to look up about a whole foot to make eye contact with him and FUCK he's cute. You know you're screwed as soon as he lets out a tiny, bubbly giggle and winks at you. He breaks your gaze and looks over to Dave, who looks like he just discovered where grubs come from; that is, confused, concerned, terrified. John walks directly up to him, looking down. "Dave. You're gonna have to start referring to yourself as shawty." Dave's face breaks into a huge toothy grin as he punches John in the gut.

"Go fuck yourself, dude! Bro you're like fucking Eiffel Tower tall. How tall even are you? Like 7'?" Dave reaches up to pat John's fluffy hair, and you can't help but be a little bit jealous. John laughs again, and your insides do that thing where they jump up your throat. You watch them converse for a few minutes, until the combination of John and all he is and the commotion of finally getting to see your friends becomes too much. You start to honestly feel faint as a fucking lady.

"As long as you crusty-panned asshampers are content staying out here talking about what-in-the-fuck-ever, I'm going to go back to my hive until you all are less disgusting. Deal?" You do your best to glare at the three other players, until you see Jade roll her eyes and shrug.

"Okay Mister Professional Party Pooper. Go do whatever it is you do and we'll just get down to business." Jade wraps her arm around Dave's shoulder again and looks at you, expecting a challenge. John grins and covers his perfect mouth with one of his hands, looking away. Fuck. You're going to pass out. You roll your eyes and try to keep your poker face on.

"Whatever. See you later, fuckwads." You turn on your heel and begin a steady walk towards your hive. You try to regulate your breathing, thinking about putting one foot in front of the other. You're well on your way to functioning like a normal fucking person when you hear a holler out from behind you.

"Karkat, hold on!" Your stomach flips and you stop momentarily, checking to make sure you weren't imagining what you heard. Nope. John Egbert is definitely calling after you and definitely kicking up dust to catch up. You turn back around and speed-walk towards your hive. You get to the door safely, but just as you are about to turn the handle you feel a massive weight slam into you from behind, along with a loud gust of air. You also heard a sickening sort of crack in your hand--which is now squished against the door-- and felt a fire behind your thumb. "Shit, I'm so sorry! I didn't expect you to--" John's apology is cut off by your wail of agony.

"FUUUUUCK!!" You clutch your hand and fall to the ground, tears welling in your eyes. You would NOT cry now. Not in front of John. Not because of John being a dumbass. Shit. Your hand is on fire now, no doubt about it. Your vision goes blurry as you feel flames licking up your wrist and into your fingers. You can't hold back a wail as the tears flow from your face. John looks horrified.

"Oh fuck." He picks you up off the ground and carries you through the door of your hive, setting you gently on a human-style bed. The only protest you can manage is slurred cursing at John, cursing his existence, cursing his endless stupidity. You can hardly move anything, your hand hurts so bad. You try to hold back the wails, but it only comes out in choked sobs. John looks like he could cry. God. You hope he doesn't. He walks over to your bedside and begins speaking. "Karkat, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"FUCK YOU, YOU HOT FUCK!!" You don't care what is coming out of your mouth, you just care about the pain and the dark spots flashing behind your eyes. Shit. Now you're definitely going to pass out. Fuck. You try to stay conscious for as long as possible, but the pain is too much. You hear John yell something at you before you conk out, but you don't quite catch it. Shit. As far as first impressions go, you think, this one is sure to make the fucking record books.

You come to slowly but surely, still very hazy about the earlier events of the evening. You gaze over at your clock, and notice that it is way too fucking early to be awake. You go to sleep later than this on a regular basis. You are exhausted, and about to close your eyes and drift off again when you hear an ear-shattering snore come from somewhere around your feet. You nearly jump out of your skin and whisper a few expletives before you calm your blood pressure enough to think. You remember about your hand, and look down to examine it. It's still aching dully, but it seems, for the most part, to be healed. It's bandaged neatly and it smells like something herbal. Kanaya must have fixed it up, you think. She's practically fucking magic with that kind of shit. However, Kanaya did not snore.

You adjust your eyes to night vision and focus on a figure curled up at the end of your bed. You are shocked for a good minute or two before you can think again. John is curled up at your feet, snoring and sleeping the way a cat would. You are dreaming. You're fucking dreaming, you know it, all you have to do is pinch yourself or wake yourself up somehow. You take the bandage from your hand and do the most stupid, painful thing you can think of to wake yourself up. You slam your hand on the cement wall behind your bed. The pain sends sparks shooting through your vision, and you cry out a loud 'FUCK'. You start to cry again, god you're such a fucking idiot. You notice movement at the end of your bed, and try to stay still. John sits up and stretches, showing off his arms and belly again. You nearly let out a groan at the sight, but try to focus on holding your hand in place instead. John rubs his eyes and looks towards you, squinting.

"mmmkarkatn?" His voice is heavy with sleep and he lets out a yawn. God he's cute. "Karkat, aryouu okey?" He crawls up the bed, further towards where you have curled yourself into a sitting position. You try to stifle a wail but it comes out as a squeaky sob. Shit. John stills and then quickly turns up the lights and comes to sit next to you. "Karkat, what the hell? The bandages weren't just for decoration, stupid." John looks at you with his brows furrowed, hands poised to take your broken one. You jerk away from him, which only serves more stifled sobs and fiery pain.

"AaaAAAOOOWW-w-w," You sob. God, you feel pathetic. "It-s-s your f-fault this-s hap-p-pened, fuck-ker!" John's expression changes to one of guilt. He looks away from you with a slight blush on his cheeks, grabbing the bandages. He holds out his hand, waiting for you to give your hurt one over. You refuse. "F-FUCk no," you stammer. He looks at you hopelessly, and you think he might cry.

"Please, Karkat. I'm sorry." He looks down at his hands and shuffles his feet into a more comfortable sitting position. "I really didn't mean to hurt you. I was just so excited to finally meet you after talking to you for such a long time and I--" he cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath. "I'm really sorry. You probably hate me now." He holds up the bandage, still looking down at his hands. "I got Kanaya to help me make this for you. It should relieve the pain and speed up the healing process. I wanted to make it up to you for being such a thoughtless dick." He finally looks back up at your eyes, and you're pissed.

You're seething. It only makes you cry more. He backs off for a minute and lets you cry and curse him for existing, for showing up, for being a jackass. He lets you yell and insult him for what feels like forever, until you're too tired to sob anymore. You sit in silence, the both of you staring down at your own laps. John opens his hand again to offer assistance, and you make a decision. You lift your broken hand and set it on John's open palm, warm and soft and clumsy. You try not to focus on how nice his hand feels, and it is more difficult than it should be, considering your hand is in so much pain. He reminds you of this as he gently re-wraps your injury, eliciting a pained gasp from you. He stops immediately. "Shit, I'm so sorry, shit are you okay?" Your eyes are squinted shut and your jaw is tight. You nod curtly and urge him to continue on. You can feel the bandage working where it was laid already. He finishes wrapping your hand and lets out a sigh of relief. He's such a dumbfuck.

"It's not like that was a major operation or anything, Dr. Dipshit." You say, grinding your teeth. You're still mad at him. You don't give a fuck how hot he is. He has so much apologizing to do, and you will not let him off the hook. He smiles stupidly, throwing another one of those godawful winks your way. FUCK this guy.

"That's my Karkat!" He says, and pats you on the cheek. Or at least, you think he pats you on the cheek? Who is this asshole. You swear he lingers a bit on the last touch, and his fingers dragging away graze your neck and give you goosebumps. "You're so cute when you're pissed off." Shit. And he called you his Karkat. You blush furiously, angry and embarrassed at your own thoughts. John's expression changes, and he begins wiggling an eyebrow. "Soooo about earlier," John starts.

"You mean when you slammed into me like a fucking train and broke my hand?" You glare at John with violent eyes, but he doesn't seem to notice. Unfazed, he continues.

"No, no. After that. When you were crying because I'm an asshole." You try to figure out where this is going, but you honestly have no fucking clue. This douchenozzle was a wild card if you ever knew one.

"Okay? What about it? I was in excruciating, gut wrenching pain." You gaze around the room, trying to find anything to focus on but those bright light glowing eyes. John rests his head in the palm of his hand, relaxed but inquisitive.

"You called me hot." He says. You freeze, staring at a spot on the wall. "A few times, actually. And cute. And you called my eyes dreamy?" He furrows his brow, blushing only the slightest. You're so fucked. You didn't realize how loud you'd been about that when you were in pain. Shit. You can feel your face turning as bright as redvines.

"Oh my god." You say. You cover your scarlet face with your good hand, hanging the other off of your knee. "Fuck. I'm so sorry. I'm. I didn't--" You didn't what? Didn't mean it? You weren't going to lie to John. You shake your head, yanking on your hair. "I'm sorry if you think I'm a big fucking creep. I wouldn't be offended if you never talked to me again. I know how you feel about being a homosapien or whatever the fuck it is and I didn't--" John cuts you off.

"Whoa, Karkat, stop." He puts his hands up like he's surrendering. "Stop. You don't have to apologize. Actually," John's gaze shifts down towards the bed, and he starts fiddling with his glasses. Actually?? Actually what? He folds his hands in his lap and looks you dead in the eye. "I actually, um, I think you're really cute?" Now John is blushing, too. God he's fucking cute. Wait. What? You have to back track and make sure you aren't hearing things.

"What?" You say, dumbstruck. John's face turns a bright shade of bubblegum pink, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

"I really like you Karkat. At first I thought it was just that I thought you were funny and cool but as time went on I... I started to think you were really cute and that I maybe wanted to hold your hand or kiss you. But I wasn't sure until I saw you today... which is why I've been acting like a goddamn assclown this whole time. I'm sorry." John opens his eyes and looks at you, anticipating some kind of reaction. You are dumbstruck.

"You slept in my bed." You say, still trying to believe that this god-like creature could like something as grubby as yourself. Your heart is starting to do extensive gymnastics routines in your chest. John grows even redder, and now his ears are bright and glowing, too. Shit. You aren't questioning this any more.

"Y-yeah, I'm sorry, that was kind of creepy," John says, barely audible. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He looks like a puppy that has just been kicked and you can't stand it. You shrug your shoulders, nonchalant, and reply.

"Don't apologize, John. I really don't give a fuck either way." With this you grab him with your good hand and hold him as tight as you can manage to. He is startled at first, but leans into the hug and buries his face in your neck. "You can sleep here some more if you want, but for the love of fuck please sleep with me and not next to me." You barely manage to say the words out loud, but you're glad that you can. He pulls away briefly to look you in the eye again. John appears to be in shock, and you fucking giggle at him for it. God. This is becoming very sappy very fast, you think.

"So you... like me too?" John asks, clearly wanting a solid answer.

"I pity you, dumbass." You say. He looks sad for a good minute and you see him start to fall apart. Shit shit shit shit. No, that's not what's supposed to happen. "John, wait, no, fuck. I like you a lot I guess I just... red quadrant is pity which is close to your human love so..." You pause a moment, trying to figure out how to communicate exactly how you feel. It's complicated. "I think I love you, John." His facial expression brightens up immediately. He nearly tackles you down onto your bed, which nearly injures your bad hand even further. You don't really mind, but you complain about it anyway. John's smile is beyond words. John rolls over to the side of you so that you two can be face to face. He scoots close enough to put his arm around your waist and entangle his mile-long legs with your shorter ones. You can't believe this is actually happening. John breaks out into a little laugh, unintentionally pulling you closer.

"What the fuck are you laughing at?" You say, defensive. He pulls up a hand to poke you in the cheek, his hand lingering on your face. "You're all red." He says. "It's cute. Like candy red." He slides his hand around to the back of your neck, tentatively playing with the soft hair at the nape. You feel a shiver run down your back, goosebumps cropping up around your edges. Goddamnit. He quirks an eyebrow at you and let's out an inquisitive hum. You elect to ignore it.

"I'm red because I've been spouting salt water for fucking sweeps," You reply, trying to ignore the heat cropping up to your face from his touch. "It's your fault, you dick." You try to hide your face in his chest, and he pulls you in closer, still playing with your hair.

"I sure hope so," he says mischievously. You snort and he lets out a tiny giggle. You can feel your energy draining as you heave out a sigh, pulling yourself tight to John with your good arm. He smells nice and warm and distinctly John, and you revel in it for a while, intending to fall asleep this way. That is, until John stretches. And moans.

"Ahh-nngh." John reaches out his arms and you hear his back and arms pop. You feel his shirt slide up and his stomach and--shit--his crotch press up against your shirt. Your eyes pop open, sleep suddenly less of an issue, and look up at John. He looks down at you as you push off from him, concern written in his features. "What is it?" You narrow your eyes and glare at him.

"I've decided you're way too fucking hot to sleep in my bed." You say, doing your best to sit up gracefully with one arm. Shit. You're blushing again and you can feel some sort of commotion beginning in the front of your pants. You close your eyes and try to focus on what you were saying. "I'm not gonna be able to sleep with you fucking rutting against me like that, let alone be in the same room with you moaning like a fucking porn star." You feel your bed shift, and feel John scoot closer. When you open your eyes he is right in your face, and you feel your breath catch and your heart skip a beat. His voice has dropped a few tones when he speaks.

"We don't have to sleep, Karkat." You turn your gaze downwards, his face close enough that you can only see the soft pink on his cheeks. Your breathing is unsteady, and you can feel your face heating up as he closes the distance between you. His mouth is cooler than yours, but much softer. His smell assaults your nose and your brain goes silent. Your senses are focused entirely on John, and you feel some sort of electricity run through every part of your body. The blood flow to your pants is starting to become an issue, and you can't help but reach out and put your working hand on the side of John's face. The kiss is far too short, and you're still caught up in the feeling as he pulls away, cradling John's face firmly in your good hand. You flutter your eyes open and give John a once over, and then lean in again.

"I'm not fucking sleeping ever again." John let's out a breath of a laugh as you crawl into his lap, never letting go of him. You lock your mouth onto his, and begin acquainting your tongue to his lower lip. He breaks your kiss and counters with his own, grabbing you by the back of your neck and slipping his tongue into your mouth. He slides his hand up through your hair and you get goosebumps, gasping softly into John's mouth. John chuckles lightly at your reaction, setting you gently beneath him on the bed. He straddles your thighs and smiles down at you, mischief in his eyes.

"Do you like your hair played with, Karkat?" He runs both of his hands through your hair from the front and grazes your horns, causing an instant reaction that makes him shoot his eyes wide open.

"Ahhnm--" You cut yourself off, snapping your hand to your mouth. John's mouth is hanging wide open, still dumbfounded. "Goddamnit John, warn me before you do shit like thaa-!" He hooks a finger around one of your horns and slides it upwards, gently trailing it down the other side. You try and fail to stifle a moan. You try to be angry at John for ignoring you, but you're way too turned on to care. John's expression has changed now, his jaw still slack, but his cheeks are flushing a bright red and his eyes reading darker than they did a moment ago. You definitely need to take care of the heavy movement in your pants, now; your bulge is completely unsheathed and you can feel it soaking your underwear. "J-jesus, John." You breathe. He pulls you in even closer and nuzzles himself into your neck.

"Karkat, you're so cute." He kisses your neck gently at first, and then more aggressively, mapping out the area with his tongue. It sends shivers through you, and you slide your hands under the back of his shirt for some sort of ground. You slide your hands around to the front of his torso, slipping off his shirt as you go. He tosses his shirt to the side and you take full advantage of the view; his soft, pink stomach with a gentle trail of hair leading down from his belly button and his sharp, squared shoulders looming over you. You are caught up on his neck and collar bone, soft and smooth and perfectly angled. You reach out to pull John down and trail kisses along his neck, tasting as much of him as you can manage. You graze your teeth along the underside of his jawline, down to where his neck and shoulders meet, and bite down gently. "Shit," John breathes. You try it again, this time harder, and John lets out a quiet moan. The sound goes straight to your bulge, already beginning to write with want. You bite down on John's neck again and begin to suck hard on the spot. You want to mark him up as much as you can, you want to claim him. You drag your hands down his chest, and he lets out a sort of gasp, bucking his hips. Shit. You feel his dick, pitching a tent in his blue pajama bottoms, rub up right against your bulge. You let out a gasp, and John makes a small whine, pulling away from you momentarily. His pupils are blown wide and his face is redder than you have ever seen. He flutters his eyelashes at you for a moment before speaking.

"Karkat, can I," He slides his hand down to the waistband of your pants, tugging gently, tentatively. You feel him press against you through your pants, and you bite your tongue to keep from gasping again. You breathe deeply before speaking.

"Please," You say, trying to sound more suggestive than needy. Your voice squeaks on the end of the word and John smiles, complying. He leans back and unbuttons your jeans, sliding them slowly off your hips and down off of your ankles. You suddenly feel very exposed, the wet spot on your boxers apparent. John doesn't seem to mind; he's been staring with his eyes half-lidded for at least thirty seconds. "John," you say, irritated. "John what the fuck are you staring at?" He snaps out of his daze at that, face bright red and embarrassed.

"Sorry, I was just." He rubs the back of his neck. "I was just taking it all in. You're sort of super hot, Karkat." With that he leans back over you, his hand playing gently at your bulge. You let out a soft groan, unintentionally rutting into John's touch. You're already soaked, and you know you are going to need more than what you're getting. You take in every twitch of John's hand, feeling it through your entire body. You grit your teeth and look up at him.

"I need more," You say, looking away in embarrassment. Shit. You close your eyes, afraid to see the way he was looking at you. He pulls away briefly and you hear the sound of fabric hitting the floor. He crawls back on top of you and you open your eyes in shock to see that he is fully nude. You can feel his dick twitching against your thigh and SHIT. You feel every tiny movement he makes.

"I can do that," he says, feeling down your sides and hooking his fingers in the elastic of your underwear. He looks up at you again, asking a silent question. You nod quickly, wanting him to get on with it already. He lifts the fabric over your bulge, gently sliding off your underpants and tossing them on the floor. He looks down at you again, and you see him gulp. He looks up at you almost worriedly. "I've never done this before," he says nervously. You gaze up at him, your eyes starting to glaze over. You hoped he would be okay with this. You sigh shakily and reply.

"If you don't want to I'd understand." You say, looking away. "I know it's fucking weird and kind of disgusting." You drop your hands to the sides of your head, breathing heavily and trying not to look upset. You were scared this might happen. John places his hand on the side of your face, guiding you to look up at him. He looks concerned, that dark tint still hiding in his eyes.

"It's not disgusting," he says, planting a kiss on your forehead. "You're wonderful, Karkat. All of you." He plays with a piece of your hair, pushing it out of the way and smiling at you softly. "I'm not backing out of this, I just wanted to warn you I might not be very good." He quirks his head to the side, winking at you again. Fuck.

"I'll help you, fucknuts," you say, grabbing his hand and setting it on your stomach. "Just fucking touch me already." He grins and leans down to kiss you, shoving his tongue in your mouth. You groan into the kiss as he rubs his hand in circles below your belly button. You let out a small whine. "Please, John," you say, voice small and needy. John responds with a groan, halting his movement momentarily.

"Yes sir," he says playfully. He slides his hand down to your bulge, grabbing it gently. You rut up into the touch, surprising John, but he doesn't stop working his fingers over the writing organ. He slides his hand down to the base of your bulge and squeezes, sliding up towards the tip. You gasp, gripping his shoulder with your good hand and digging your nails into him. John responds with a buck of his hips and a small moan. You feel his dick rub up against your bulge and you can't take it anymore. You buck up aggressively, your bulge wrapping slowly around John's dick, pulling him down closer to you. "Ahhh," John breathes. "Sh-shit." You try to keep it together as John wraps his fingers into your hair, rubbing at your horns again. The world goes silent except for the soft smacking sounds of John's rutting and the heavy breathing and soft noises coming from the two of you. You can't think straight, and all you can see and hear and taste is John. You can feel your bulge guiding John into your nook, and you let out a small cry.

"John-n!" You squirm underneath him, and John kisses your neck softly. You need more, you want to feel him all over you. "A-ah, John," you breathe heavily. "Bite me, m-mn, please, John." You feel John thrust into you harder, bringing himself into your nook right up to the hilt. John obeys your request and sinks his teeth into your neck, slowly rocking in and out of you. You try to keep yourself from going over the edge, breathing heavy and loud, and you can't stop saying John's name.

"Fuck, Karkat," John says, letting out groans every now and then and breathing heavily next to your ear. He grabs one of your horns and drags his tongue over it, and you cry out. He takes it in his mouth and starts sucking on it, still rutting into you aggressively. His weight and size are hurting your nook, but you can't focus on that when John's mouth is warm and wet and hot and your senses are buzzing and you feel like you're going to explode and oh fuck oh god.

"John--I'm gonna," He pops his mouth off of your horn and looks you in the eye, his hands still in your hair. Shit. He lets out a shaky breath and speeds up his pace, suddenly locking his mouth with yours. His thrusts start to become more erratic, harder and less controlled. He lets out a moan as he spills inside of you.

"Mmnkarkat," he says, and that's it. You feel all of your muscles tense up and your vision goes starry, arching your back as John slides in and out of you. You let out a loud cry and spill your genetic material all over the bed, only a small amount more than John's own. John collapses on top of you, exhausted and sweating. You are both still breathing heavily, and you look over at John dazedly. His mouth is red and beat up, face flushed and shining. He opens his eyes to look at you, all bright blue and glowing. He smiles gently and kisses you on the mouth.

"I'm glad I found you," he says quietly. You aren't sure how to respond, and you're still too caught up in his eyes to think clearly. "I love you, Karkat." You blush profusely, cursing yourself. Your heart flutters in your chest, causing you to scrunch up your nose. This is exactly like a stupid fucking rom-com, you think.

"John, I love you." You say, lifting your hand up to caress his face. "I love you and I'm such an idiot." You shake your head and plant a kiss on John's forehead one last time before sitting up. You had almost forgotten about your hand, and you remember as you lean on it to get up. "Fuck," you hiss, exhaling sharply. John giggles at you and helps you sit up.

"Where you headed to, Karkat?" He asks, hugging you. You roll your eyes. You're an idiot and John is an idiot and you're both idiots for loving each other. "I'm going to clean up our mess, you adorable shit-for-brains." He pulls out of the hug and squints at you, sticking out his tongue. He's so fucking cute. You stick your tongue out in response, walking over to where your clothes are piled on the floor. You start to yank up your underwear when John walks over and grabs his own clothes. He tosses his shirt on first before snapping his fingers and looking at you excitedly. "Oh! I got this!" He says. And with that, he uses his wind powers like a leafblower, knocking the top layer of bedding right off of the mattress and onto the floor. He then balls it up and tosses it in a corner, looking at you with a shitfaced grin and still pantless.

You roll your eyes at him and he laughs, walking behind you to finish getting dressed. He bends over to pick up his underwear and clothes and you freeze. Shit, that's the nicest ass you've ever seen. You watch him pull up the fabric over his tight backside, swallowing and trying not to blush. He turns around and faces you, confused at your expression.

"You okay there, buddy?" He says, concern written in his features. You shake your head, face reddening even more.

"YEAH!! Yeah of course I'm okay, you pisswad." You look at him and try to appear offended. Realization dawns on his face and he wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively. You glare at him, already preparing to deny any accusations. "I was definitely not staring at your perfectly round, shapely, well defined ass." You say, shaking your head.

"Whatever you say, honey bunches," He says mockingly. You don't even have the energy to argue with him; your romp in the sheets has left you spent. You try to suppress a yawn and fail miserably. John yawns, too, shaking his head. He pulls something large, blue, and fluffy out of his sylladex--is that?

"Is that a giant fucking squiddle?" You ask, confused. He then proceeds to pull out another one of the huge-ass monstrosities, this time a red one. You grimace as he scoops them up and tosses them on your bed. "Squiddles, John?" He looks at you and simply nods, yawning again and flopping down onto the mattress. God he's cute. Whatever, you think. You can tolerate it for John. You walk over to the edge of your bed and lay down next to him, wrapping your arms around him. He lets out a quiet giggle. "What the fuck are you laughing at, asshole?" You ask, defensive. He shakes his head softly.

"I'm just happy," He says sleepily. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore how sweet he is and how your heart skips a beat. You nuzzle your face into his back, breathing in slowly.

"Me too," you say softly.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading ;v; i never edited this and it's pretty shitty so thank you for those who read through it ;*


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